


Just One Yesterday

by PlatinumAndPercocet



Category: Fall Out Boy
Genre: Alternate Universe, Cameos, Drabble Collection, F/M, Fluff and Angst, I don't know how not to give everything away, M/M, Multi, Non-Linear Narrative, POV First Person, Polyamory, Tears, more to come - Freeform, random moments
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-08-03
Updated: 2017-08-16
Packaged: 2018-12-10 19:50:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 5,943
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11698728
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PlatinumAndPercocet/pseuds/PlatinumAndPercocet
Summary: Moments and memories, told out of order because I like to punish myself. Glimpses of the moments that make up a life together.





	1. I'd Trade All My Tomorrows

**Author's Note:**

> So. Yeah, this is an absolute mess. There is no real order to any of these, they are simply moments in time. Some are good, some are... not so good. Things, however, may not be as they seem. Kudos and comments are always welcome, and make me happy dance with my crutch like a total nerd. Because I am. Suggestions and questions are equally as welcome, I am an absolute whore for feedback. And no, it is not a shame
> 
> This also has not been betad because I have an instant gratification problem. All mistakes are mine and mine alone. Every last one. 
> 
> Title is taken from Just One Yesterday by Fall Out Boy because I am a walking (hobbling) cliche. This one is for Flames_And_Jade bacuse she told me to do the thing.

In and out.

In and out.

In and out.

It was a mantra at this point, the thought passing through my mind so much it seemed like it had always been there.

'Remember to breathe.'

I'd always laughed when people reminded me to breathe, as though it was an easy thing to forget. It was automatic, your body did it for you, unconsciously, why in the hell would you need to think about it?

And then one single moment, my world stopped spinning and I knew.

I couldn't breathe, I couldn't think, I couldn't see… nothing. Everything just stopped, everything but the pain and that, well, that never stopped, it was all encompassing.

That's a lie. The memories, they didn't stop, not even when I wanted them to.

Black and white images flickered on a constant loop through my mind, every moment from the sublime to the mundane, they haunted me, all the things that I'd said, that they had said… I could still hear the words as if they were spoken yesterday but they were somehow muffled as though I was underwater. 

I couldn't turn them off, not even when I slept, especially not then. In dreams it was easier to forget about their absence, to pretend everything was okay again but something was just not quite right… everything was just a little too bright, pictures that I knew were askew were hung perfectly straight. The coffee mug, Trick’s favorite one that I'd chipped the day he had surprised me at the dishwasher, was smooth and unblemished. And Pete’s hoodie, with ragged cuffs and a spattering of bleach from helping me with my hair was pristine. 

I wasn't sure which was worse, the dreams or the memories, they were both beautiful torture in their own way.

The pills helped, sometimes. Waking up screaming at three AM, drenched in sweat, last words still echoing in my ears, they provided a brief salvation. My trembling hands shake one small tablet out of the bottle and I swallow it dry; it is bitter and scratches going down but it is proof of what is real, what I still have even as the cold sheets and empty space beside me remind me of what I have lost. 

The bright smiles, captured in a spontaneous moment, shined out from the picture frame on the nightstand, breaking my heart all over again, taking my breath with it and the mantra would begin again.

In and out.

In and out.

In and out.


	2. It Was The Fourth Of July

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Storms and fireworks

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, a little happy after the heavy that was chapter one. Like I said, out of order quick moments in the life. Questions, comments and kudos are all welcome with open arms and make me smile like a movie star. 
> 
> Unbetad as usual cause I do a little thing called whatever I want.
> 
> As usual, for Flames_And_Jade because she told me I had to do the thing. 
> 
> Enjoy and thanks for reading!

When I was little I hated the rain, thunderstorms especially. It was mostly after Catherine left , though I didn't know why. There was no significant event, it wasn't raining the night she vanished, I never got stuck in a downpour waiting for dad to pick me up at school, nothing like that. I just… hated it.

Pete had laughed at me the first time I'd stayed with him during a storm, so damn long ago, when we were platonic; before we were US. Whiskey eyes peeked under the blankets that had been tugged tightly over my head in a vain attempt to keep the thunder that was shaking the windows out as I snuggled tightly against Patrick. Of course Pete had laughed, that deep bray of his sending shivers down my spine while Patrick’s arms wrapped tightly around my waist. His gentle, soft voice whispered nonsense whispered in my ear until I fell asleep, despite the storm raging outside, because that is what he did. 

Pete, however, he never missed an opportunity to tease me about my aversion to the meteorological events, or how I foolishly planned what little time off we all had together around the weather. It was one of the only things that I couldn't control and it drove me insane. 

If I hadn't known it was impossible, I would have said they had both planned it but even as talented as both of my boys were, couldn't control the weather. We were outside the city, one of our rare days off together since we'd gone public as it were and we were heading over unfamiliar terrain, leaving the hustle and bustle of the city and the holiday behind. I had no idea where we were going and no amount of wheedling, pouting and pleading of both Pete and Patrick was making a difference. In fact, it earned me little more than a grin and free reign over the radio which was a happy distraction. Then again, free reign over the radio when Patrick was driving was a rare thing indeed. 

The sky was clear and a beautiful bright blue when we had left Chicago, the sun still low and bright on the horizon but as the miles passed the clouds started rolling in, heavy and menacing.

By the time Patrick finally pulled to a stop, the sky was a dark grey-green, the air outside almost crackling with electricity. Hopping easily out of the vehicle, Patrick and I followed a nearly sprinting Pete, almost reluctantly, my hand warm in his as we headed across the green field, following the sound of Pete’s voice and his bounding head as he started in on another, exceedingly filthy reimagining of an old Britney Spears tune.

The thunder rolled when we were halfway across the wide open space and I huffed, glancing up just as the first raindrop fell, cold and fat, splattering on my nose. The single drop was like a warning just moments before the sky opened up and I shrieked as Patrick and I both raced after a braying Pete, his laughter barely audible over the pounding rain.

By the time I finally reached the tree line, I was drenched, we all were. My clothes were a sodden mess, the white shirt about as useful as a bucket full of holes and my hair was plastered to my cheeks and neck. Pete and Patrick both had jackets and hats to offer at least some modicum of protection against the elements. I did not. 

"What's wrong Elley B? I know for a fact you aren't gonna melt." Pete’s voice was dripping with mirth, eyes twinkling with mischief as he tugged me close, wrapping his arms tightly around my waist.

"I'm not worried about melting I just hate the rain." I was being petulant again, because that was attractive. Another laugh and I arched my brow, pursing my lips. "I'm so glad you are amused Peter." Wrinkling my nose, I glared upwards and the thunder boomed, as though that would actually have some sort of impact on the weather, and I shifted closer to Pete, peeking behind me as Patrick , rested his chin on my shoulder.

"Hey B?" The words were whispered against my wet hair, Patrick’s breath warm against my chilly skin and I hummed in response, not bothering to move.

"Marry me? Well, us..."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title from Fourth Of July by Fall Out Boy


	3. Tonight Is Just Fire Alarms And Losing You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Storms and sadness

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another glimpse at this strange little world. I know, I probably cause more questions than I give answers but everything will come together eventually, I promise. 
> 
> Once again, this is in absolutely no order at all but that is for a reason. 
> 
> Questions, comments and kudos are ridiculously appreciated. If you have a moment you would like to see with these three, just say so and it shall happen. 
> 
> I have a handful of chapters written, I just need to smooth and polish because I don't have a beta. I take pride in my silly errors. 
> 
> Thank you to Flames_And_Jade for being SUPER AMAZING. 
> 
> Happy reading and thank you all for your time.

The thunder is what woke me, the deep, rolling crashes outside the windows piercing my thin veil of sleep. I could barely hear the first drops of rain pelting the windows as I rolled over to curl against Pete. Instead of his warm, hard body I found nothing but sheets.

"Pete? Patrick?" My voice was heavy and thick with sleep as I blinked my eyes, searching for them both in the dark.

"Hey Sweetheart." The endearment from Patrick brought a smile to my lips and I felt the bed dip as he sat beside me, lacing his fingers through mine as Pete settled on my other side, mimicking Patrick’s gesture and twining his fingers with mine. 

"Whatcha doin' up?" There was no spoken answer, just a soft sigh from Patrick as he brushed my bangs from my eyes with his free hand, his calloused fingers lingering for a moment on my cheek. Pete just looked away, studying his feet as if the universe was contained in the caps of his converse. I knew, in that instant what was happening.

"When?" My voice broke and I could feel the tears spring to my eyes, unbidden.

"An hour." Patrick dropped his hand from my face and I could see him bow his head as a flash of blue white lightning illuminating the room.

"No." It was whispered, a futile plea. I couldn't change it, not now. We had discussed this, we all had, known that it would be a possibility, at least for a little bit longer. One, maybe two more UC ops, nothing lasting more than a month. I had fooled myself into pretending I was okay with it. I had never been a very good liar.

"I'm sorry, if we could stay…" Pete trailed off, we all knew the next words didn't need to be said. The skies opened with a deafening crash and rain pounded against the windows. The news and the storm both had me wide awake, my body brimming with kinetic energy. Sitting up, I tugged insistently on Pete’s shirt yanking it from his jeans with one hand as my other worked ineffectually at Patrick’s belt .

"B, you don't nee-" The words ended in a hiss as my hand dipped into Patrick’s jeans, sliding below the waistband of his boxers.

"I do need. I do." My words didn't make sense, not entirely anyway, but it didn't matter at the moment, nothing mattered except for him as I pulled first Patrick and then Pete to me.

There was nothing sweet or gentle about it, our coupling was frenzied, almost desperate. Fingers scratching across sensitive skin, shaky breaths and unabashed moans. Dirty, pretty words whispered in my ear as the storm raged outside, providing an unintended, if perfect soundtrack.

I refused to think, I couldn't allow it. If I let myself give into the thoughts, focus on anything other than here, and them and need and feeling, I would breakdown. I knew it. I knew it was coming, and soon and so did they. The trembling hands, snapped strap of a slip as it was tossed to the floor, ragged breaths and hurried thrusts. It was almost painful and we would all bare marks the next day, jagged scratches for for them bruises for me, proof that we existed, that we needed, that we ached with want, that we were scared. That we were real. That was what it came down to. Fear, it was the one thing that we never had when we were together, no matter what the situation, because we had each other, but when we were apart it was always there, haunting and pervasive, sneaking into thoughts and tainting memories like cyanide in a well.

We came hard, fast and together, my wordless wail silenced by Patrick’s mouth as Pete’s lips moved against my neck, the tears finally slipping from my eyes.

A final kiss from each of them, whispered declarations of love and promises to be safe and return soon and they were out of sight..

The door clicked shut and they were both gone, out into the night. And as the storm raged on, I shattered into a million, sharp-edged shards.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title is from Death Valley by Fall Out Boy


	4. Detox Just To Retox

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Realizations and rainstorms

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another glimpse into the moments that make up a life. A big moment. This one is semi-sweet. Again, this isn't in any order, just how they popped into my head. 
> 
> Comments, kudos and questions make me grin like a movie star. 
> 
> Not betad because, well, instant gratification junkie so all mistakes are mine. And yes, I know, I have an overabundance of commas. Not sorry. 
> 
> Flames_And_Jade encouraged this whole mess. And, actually, it all came to fruition after reading the latest chapter of SnitchesAndTalkers amazing Sin Is A Man's Brother because I NEEDED to see happy Patrick. This... may not be exactly what I needed but I have never done hearts, flowers and happy very well. SO. 
> 
> This is a reworking and reimagining of something I wrote in a different fandom years ago but the concept lent itself to this so perfectly I couldn't NOT play with it. So. 
> 
> Anyway, thank you all for taking the time to read my little tale, it is so appreciated. If you want to write something in the little box at the bottom, I will respond with gratuitous thanks and possibly baked goods.

This wasn't happening. It wasn't, not now. Not here. On a hard uncomfortable bench in the locker room, the scent of other women's perfume and body wash still hanging in the air, even long after the users themselves had vanished. My vision fogged and I fought back the tears that threatened to fall, futile as it was as I stared at the object in my hands. My knuckles were white as I gripped the slender piece of plastic, my mind both racing and frighteningly empty all at once.

Dates and images, so many seemingly small moments, tiny inconsequential decisions, they all added up, but to what? Between the overtime and shuffling between houses, I had obviously let things slide but this was more than I could imagine.

I'd blamed it on stress. Moving. Patrick and Pete being gone, working on preparing their next case. My dad slipping back off the wagon, AGAIN. That all made sense, right? Right. Things got forgotten. Happens all the time. I looked the other way, didn't even give a second thought.

And then the break up. It had been SPECTACULAR. Outside of The Phoenix, in the pouring rain, an audience of, oh I don't know twenty of our closest friends and not so close co-workers watching on. Words were yelled, accusations flung. All the fire and passion that defined us now, had defined us since day one. Nothing could be easy, not with us, not ever.

That was over a month ago now. 42 days to be exact, not that I was counting. The atmosphere was still frigid between all of us when we saw each other, which was not nearly as seldom as I had hoped. Even though I had put in to work overnights and not so casually moved my office to avoid both Pete and Patrick, it was pretty hard when we were all on the same team. The breakup, and the resulting awkwardness wasn't a secret, and none of us tried to hide it because where was the point?

My hands shook as I shoved the item in my pocket, I watched as first one tear, and then another splashed on my shoes in quick succession. No, no, no. Not here. Tugging my hands through my hair I let out a sigh and drop my head back, staring blankly at the ceiling of the locker room. My hands, now empty, knotted together, my fingers searching, almost instinctively, for something that wasn't there, hadn't been for 42 days. I had just barely kept from throwing the ring, a gorgeous heirloom that had been handed down through Pete’s family, at Patrick during the fight. Fits of pique had never really been my style but hey, a girl has to have layers. 

There were questions and no answers, not a single one as I moved, almost robotically to gather my belongings and headed outside into the warm night.

Three AM and I was standing on their porch in the dark. The lights were out and this was the last place I should be, the last place I wanted to be, but the one place I needed to be. The knock was almost timid and I stared at the street, my back to the door. Maybe they hadn't heard it. Maybe they was asleep. Maybe they wasn't even home. Maybe-

“Ellery?" Maybe not. My heart didn't clench a little at the sound of my given name, not when Patrick’s voice was all gravelly and rough with sleep. No it did not. My hands went back in my pockets, fingers wrapped around the plastic, more to stop the shaking than for anything else, and I met Pete’s eyes first, dark and concerned and then Patrick’s, deep and worried behind crooked glasses. I didn't look at Patrick’s hands, I couldn't, not without the memories, but I knew where they were. One on the door and one on the frame. It's just what he did. I could see Pete’s though, one resting on Patrick’s neck, his thumb brushing against the soft skin there, the other fidgeting with the cuff of his well worn hoodie. They both looked half asleep, mismatched pajamas pulled on in a rush and hair sticking up at all angles. In fact, I was certain the Batman pajama pants Pete had on were Patricks. 

I open my mouth and close it again quickly, blinking back the tears because goddamnit they wouldn't go away. I always have words, weather I should say them or not, and now? Nothing. I swallow thickly, a last ditch attempt to soothe my parched throat, and force myself to look up from my shoes, standing up straight and meeting first Pete’s gaze and then Patrick’s, and feeling the panic twisting in my gut, real and heavy and dark before the words, just two, tumbled from my lips at barely more than a whisper. 

"I'm pregnant."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title from Disloyal Order Of Water Buffaloes by Fall Out Boy


	5. The Sunshine Gleams From Your Wedding Band

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fluff. Pure, teeth rotting, saccharine fluff. Don't get used to it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I keep saying no more updates and then I keep updating. I just reread one of my very favorite WIPs and needed a little bit of happy. So. Here. I hope you like it. 
> 
> I have no doubt it is all wildly inaccurate, but... artistic licence? Enjoy the babble, y'all. 
> 
> Kudos, comments and questions make me happy crutch dance.
> 
> Hey, Flames_And_Jade, it is that happy I promised. 
> 
> Thank you all for taking the time to read, it means the world.

It wasn't what I had dreamed it as a little girl, not even close. There was no church, no rows of guests, no white gown or veil. My mom wasn't there. Hell, my dad wasn't even there. There was no singing or tuxedos or fancy cars. No elaborate bouquets or special shoes.

That old rhyme though? "Something old, something new, something borrowed, something blue" That was taken care of, in spades.

My dress was some diaphanous, flowy navy blue thing bought on a whim with that had been languishing in my closet for almost a year. It was a little bit tighter than it had been originally but it hid my increasingly obvious baby bump, for the most part. A pair of Hayley’s earrings dangled elegantly from my ears, ( 'You can try arguing with me but you won't win.' And I didn't). Sapphires and small diamonds glinting in the early morning sunlight, she was right, they were perfect.

Patrick's tie was new, and so was Pete’s entire suit, despite my protests that they didn't need it. Jeans and a band t-shirt were more than enough for me, but they both insisted.

The suggestion had been out of left field two mornings prior, as we all lay in bed, still entwined with each other, Patrick’s fingers trailing delicately over my arm while Pete rested his head on my slightly round belly and let his fingers roam. 

"Let's get married." Pete’s words were muffled against my baby bump and I rolled my eyes as Patrick smiled against my neck. It had been a difficult month and a half, lots of ups and downs but we were all together again, and things were… right, somehow, despite circumstances being as unconventional as they were.

"We are." It was true, nothing was concrete, no plans had been made, but they had been discussed, and my ring had been back on my finger for the last three weeks.

"No, I mean now. Soon." Pete’s hands were wandering again, making it ridiculously hard to concentrate. "Come on Elley B, you know you want to. Besides, don't you want tadpole to have the same name as his parents?" His voice was low and I could feel his smile against my skin, that hint of pride that crept into his voice. 

"First of all, we don't know it's a he, it's a bit early for all that yet, and besides if you want to talk genetics, there really isn't a way to know that yet, not that it matters. " No argument really, no words to the contrary or snarky retorts. I had absolutely nothing to argue, no points to make, no reasons why not. "Okay."

That was it. It was decided as simple as anything. Paperwork was filed, blood tests were performed and squeals and hugs were given.

An old dress, a handful of white tea roses, a suit I'd seen a dozen times and one that was new. Us, Frank, Gee and Hayley, and a judge whom we had both seen before in court, under very different circumstances. Words were spoken, rings were exchanged and there was a sweet kiss before we were ushered out. 

That was what was seen, anyway. Logistically, and legally, it was a little more difficult. While Patrick and I spoke our vows technically to each other, there were more than a few lingering glances to Pete, who sat opposite the judge, just within our eyesight. He was as much a part of this relationship as Patrick and I, it was an even partnership in every way, but also one the law would not recognize so we did it our own way as soon as we could. 

The moment we closed the door of our home behind us, a third ring, white gold and matching the ones Patrick and I wore, was pulled from it’s velvet box and slipped onto Pete’s left ring finger. There were more tears, more smiles and more declarations of love. 

It wasn't fancy, it wasn't what I had dreamed of but it was us. And it was perfect.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title from Headfirst Slide Into Cooperstown On A Bad Bet by Fall Out Boy


	6. You Were My Picket Fence

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tears and bamboo

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> More non-linear fluff. I was gonna try and limit updates of this mess to once a day but then Flames_And_Jade said "I want more". Who am I to argue? 
> 
> Not betad, please forgive the mistakes at this unholy hour.  
>  
> 
> Comments and kudos make me bounce like 2005 Pete Wentz.
> 
> Questions and requests for specific moments are more than welcome, I love making people smile and all will be showered with thanks and baked goods.
> 
> Thank you for taking the time out of your busy lives to read! 
> 
> Fun fact; Like Ellery, I have killed bamboo. Inside. Twice. So.

I stared at the seeds in my hand blankly, blinking against the bright sunshine and, not for the first time today, cursing myself. My sunglasses had vanished to God knows where. I think I'd had them yesterday, at some point but seeing as I could barely remember to put two shoes on before leaving the house lately, there was no way of guaranteeing whether that was yesterday or two weeks ago. Although two weeks ago, I could actually still tie my own shoes, or at least it seemed like it.

I wrinkled my nose in disgust as I glanced down, though fat lot of good it did. My swollen belly blocked any view I may have had of my feet. If I hadn't known better, I would have sworn that little one had quadrupled in size overnight. The last two months had been a flurry of activity, between the wedding, work (although that was pretty much limited to working the desk after I started to show even just a little), selling my townhouse and moving in with Pete and Patrick and just… adjusting to everything, it still hadn't all hit me, not entirely. Not until today.

The back yard was milling with people, lavender balloons gathered in bunches and streamers hanging on the porch, an obviously well planned, though VERY much a surprise baby shower was well underway, friends and family moving easily around the yard. The smell of the searing meat from the barbeque that MikeyWay was currently manning had my stomach growling but I still couldn't move, my attention glued to the small, black specks in my hands.

Hayley had tucked them into my hand after the gifts had been opened and appropriately ooh-ed and ahh-ed and wept over, a small note attached explaining the tradition, the same one that had been carried on in her family for several generations, though my vision clouded and tears had fallen long before I had reached the end.

I didn't know how I was going to do it. How I was supposed to transform these small, black specks into flowers, how I was supposed to nurture them, take care of them, make them come alive. I hadn't ever kept anything alive, not even bamboo. And yet, somehow, I was supposed to take care of this life, this precious, amazing little being that I already loved more than anything. How was I being allowed to do this?

I didn't bother fighting the tears, it was absolutely worthless at this point and I watched as they splashed against the bright yellow of my sundress, darkening the fabric. Surrounded by everyone I loved in the world, my family, my friends, hell even people I didn't particularly like, though it wasn't entirely Superintendent Williams fault, I felt adrift, more lost than I could remember being in almost fifteen years, all because of a bunch of seeds.

I felt their presence before a single touch. One of Pete’s arms wound around my waist, his hand resting almost reverently on my stomach as Patrick’s lips pressed against my temple.

"What's wrong B?" The words were a low and I relaxed back into Pete’s embrace, leaning against his chest, tears still falling freely as I grasped for Patrick’s hand, desperate for comfort.

"I killed bamboo." The words made almost no sense, sounded foreign and ridiculous even to me, punctuated by vain attempts to stop the hiccoughing sobs that threatened to overtake me at any moment.

The chuckle was unexpected and deep, I could feel it in Pete’s chest as Patrick’s hand closed around mine, gently, tenderly, blocking the seeds from my view.

"We'll plant them together, I promise. It'll all be okay."

Such a simple declaration, uttered with such love and faith and trust. I knew it would be, I knew it with every fiber of my being in that single instant. No matter what happened, it would all be okay. The gentle pressure against my belly brought a smile to my face, pressing against Pete’s hand and, once it was rested against the swell of my stomach, Patrick’s as well. I knew without looking that both of their smiles were bright, all white teeth and awe, the same way it always was when they felt our daughter move.

"It'll all be okay."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title from Miss Missing You by Fall Out Boy


	7. I Don't Want To Remember It All

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Beer and broken glass

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oops i did it again...  
>  Blame Flames_And_Jade because she encouraged this whole mess. 
> 
> As always, your kudos, comments and questions make the world a brighter place. 
> 
> Thank you so much for reading!

It's amazing how therapeutic the sound of shattering glass is. I'd never realized how much I loved it until this moment. I stared blankly at the pile of shards on the floor, the moonlight flooding in and glinting off of the broken pieces, shining off of the amber liquid that spread slowly across my formerly clean kitchen floor.

My vision blurred, everything became hazy and I fought back the tears that burned my eyes. No. No, no, no. I wasn't going to cry, not again. Not now.

My throat still ached and the words echoed through my head. They had been screamed, back and forth, filled with passion and fire, just like everything that we did. Nothing was ever simple for us, not since day one. Although I don't think us was an applicable term any longer.

It had started innocently enough, sitting by the bar at The Phoenix blowing off steam after an incredibly tough shift. We were all on edge, that kind of thing happened when you get shot at several times. Pete made some off the cuff remark about taking another job for Beckett and I froze, literally. A chill raced down my spine and I set my bottle down just a bit too hard, with a sidelong glance at Patrick who just avoided my eyes. 

Hayley's eyes widened just barely, and Geraed snapped his jaw shut. Brendon, being Brendon and practically worshiping at Pete's feet, STILL, begged for details, which Pete, not exactly begrudgingly, provided.

They were leaving. Again. The last time was supposed to be it. They had promised, they both had. Scoffing and barely holding back an adolescent hair flip, I threw some bills on the table to cover my drink and headed out into the cold night.

They followed a few minutes later. Pete’s voice gruff and tone demanding, While Patrick was apologetic, almost as earnestly so as possible without actually apologizing. And then Pete said it. What was my problem? That did it. Those words, that question. The fact that he had to ask at all was the problem. He knew. He knew what my problem was, he just asked because he could. Because he needed to push. 

There were tears and insults. Name calling and futile pushing. Every stupid cliché in the book was hurled, words spit angrily, dripping with venom and fear. Patrick’s infamous temper even made an appearance during an uncharacteristic expletive laced tirade. Buttons were pushed on every level and an audience grew, standing silent and hypnotized.

It was a whispered 'Go.' That finished it all, and go they both did. Pete’s truck was unnecessarily loud, the tires squealing as he tore out of the parking lot. I could just see the light reflecting off of Patrick's glasses as he turned to look back. 

I'd walked home, the bitter cold almost freezing the tears on my cheeks. They wouldn't stop, didn't until I got to the door of my townhouse. 

And then there was nothing. I'd grabbed the bottle of scotch, fully intending on draining its contents. Instead, somehow, it ended up shattered against the wall, the delightful crash resounding through the house. I followed it with first one glass, then two, and then, finally four, that shards tinkling against each other as they rained down to the tile floor.

I was exhausted, drained… done. There was nothing left in me as shook despite the warm air of the house. Sliding down the wall, I landed hard on the floor, resting my head on my knees and reveling in the silence.

The worst part was there was no one else to blame.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title from Twin Skeleton's by Fall Out Boy


	8. Underneath The Purple Sky

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Paint and ponderings. So much tooth rotting fluff and a peek into the past.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yep. I always say I am going to wait, but I never do. Another glimpse into this strange little world. 
> 
>  
> 
> Comments, kudos, questions and requests make my day and I am so very happy to hear what you all think of this convoluted mess. 
> 
> For Flames_And_Jade because she wanted some happy. A super special shout outs to SnitchesAndTalkers for breaking my heart with her amazing tale and essentially inspiring this. 
> 
>  
> 
> Thank you all for taking the time to read, truly. It makes my day.
> 
> Also? Bonus brownie points and all the adoration to anyone who can tell me the lyrics I shamelessly cribbed here.

I hated desk duty, hated it with all that I was. Sitting in one spot all day, fielding questions, answering calls and forcing a smile into my voice was not my idea of a productive day. Beckett, for his part at least tried to convince me that my skills as a profiler were being put to use reviewing cold cases. It didn't work. I still hated it, though after a shockingly close call my last day in the field, I wasn't going to take any chances, and neither was anyone else.

I could smell the paint still hanging in the air, faint and slightly bitter as I entered the house. It was funny, still, how much this had truly become a home. Images of the night things had changed for us flashed to my mind, unbidden. There had been a blackout and I had gone to the closest place I could think of that may have still had heat, thanks to the fireplaces that were strategically placed throughout Pete and Patrick’s lovingly and painstakingly restored home. The need, want, desperation and unbridled fire that had always been such an integral part of who we were, had finally boiled over from the low level simmer of attraction that had been just below the surface to something tangible, real, complicated and wonderful. 

Dropping my bag with a huff, I rest my hand on my swollen belly, rubbing it gently. Baby girl was active today, which was not unusual. Pete Wentz's daughter couldn't be anything but, whether she was biologically his or not. We didn't know, we wouldn't until she was born, but it didn't matter anyway. She was ours and she was a lucky girl to have both a Daddy Patrick and a Papa Pete. 

Following the soft sound of Patrick singing accompanied by a series of soft thumps and clicks, followed by Pete’s laughter, I made my way towards the guest bedroom that was connected to the master. 

"Hey guys, I-"My voice trailed off as I took in the sight before me. My husbands, both clad in jeans and faded soft band t-shirts, were both splattered with pale lavender paint that Patrick was just finishing rolling on the walls. Pete was seated in the middle of the floor surrounded by darkly stained wood as he assembled what looked to be a crib. Tears sprang to my eyes almost instantly, slipping down my cheeks.

 

Pete’s smile was all blinding white teeth and as he stood and crossed the room in a few strides, wrapping one strong arm around me, even as a paint spattered thumb brushed against my cheek. 

"Why the tears Sweetheart?" Patrick had followed suit, his voice was low and sweet, as his lips pressed against ny temple. My heart skipped a beat, as always, at the endearment. Dragging my palms over my cheeks, I shook my head and laughed, the sound somehow mixing with a sob as I gestured aimlessly around the room.

"It's beautiful." And it was, it wasn't finished, it was honestly barely started, but it was still perfect.

A soft chuckle from Pete and a gentle rub of his hand on my belly was his only reply as a feather light kiss brushed against my lips. Patrick’s free hand wrapped around mine, gently pulling all three of us toward toward the window. The frame gleamed a bright and shiny white, the watery afternoon sun filtering through the glass, a gentle breeze blowing in and combining with the ceiling fan, catching both my hair and the hem of my pale green dress as Patrick stood behind me. His breath was warm against my ear and a hand rested protectively on my swollen belly, his fingers brushing Pete’s while the other pointed out into the back yard.

"I can see you there by the rose bush laughing." I followed his hand, smiling as I saw the freshly turned up earth where we had planted the seeds from Hayley by the fence, digging and dropping and tamping the dirt down together, just like he had promised.

The tears came again then, though I'm not sure if they had ever stopped, and I laced my fingers tightly with both Pete’s and Patrick’s , turning my head to look up at both of the men I was spending the rest of my life with.

"You really think that I can keep the rose bushes alive long enough to laugh by them?" My track record with plants was, as we all well knew, not exactly wonderful.

"No, B, I don't think you can." My eyes widened and I opened my mouth to protest only to be silenced by Pete’s finger on my lips and we both glanced over at Patrick as he continued. "But I know that we can. Together."

I couldn't doubt him in that moment, not for any moment ever, really. He was right, as always. We could, and would, do it together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title from Favorite Record by Fall Out Boy


	9. At The Dead End

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In and out. It's easy, right?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So.... This chapter goes out to the AMAZING SnitchesAndTalkers who asked for more of this universe. This... is probably not what she wanted. 
> 
> All kinds of twisty time lines here, folks, as always. 
> 
> Unbetaed, also as always, because that is how I roll. 
> 
> Questions, comments and kudos make my day brighter, if you happen to want to leave any of the above, I will be the happiest camper this side of Chicago. 
> 
> All the cheers and thanks to Flames_And_Jade wgo encouraged this hot mess. 
> 
> Thank you all so much for reading.

I felt it seemingly before I heard the shot.

Pain. That was everything It was seemingly endless, a blinding, white hot ache that bloomed through my body as I fell.

Time seemed to stop in that moment, each second passing as an eternity as the ground moved up to meet me.

This was wrong; it wasn't supposed to happen like this. I had so much more left to do.

My breath came in strangled gasps, wet and strained as I struggled to just breathe, to regulate the most basic of functions.

The images flashing through my mind terrified me as they flickered one after another, some overly bright, the colors hauntingly saturated and others dull and faded, the edges fading quickly to black.

The collision with the ground pulled me back to the present my palms the first to hit the gravel, the tiny, jagged stones bringing an almost blissful awareness. If I could feel pain that was good, right?

I could hear the voices calling my name, screaming, the footsteps crunching against the tiny stones, sirens in the distance.

"Ellery. B, come on, keep breathing." The words were a command instead of a question, and Patrick’s familiar voice, usually so gentle, wavered with fear as he grasped my hand.

"You're gonna be okay Sweetheart, you're gonna be okay." He repeated the words like a mantra as I sucked in each ragged breath, the warmth on the side of my shirt spreading as I struggled to get up.

"No, stay down, the medics will be here in a minute. Come on just breathe with me. Come on B, you know how to do this."

I did, or at least I should. In and out, it wasn't a hard concept but each breath, each struggle for air, sent a flare of pain across my ribs but I still listened, I couldn't not. It was Patrick beside me, his voice, scared and insistent in my ear, his hand grasping mine so hard it almost hurt. He was scared. So was I. I could hear Pete somewhere in the distance, his voice hoarse and cracking as he screamed at someone I couldn’t see. 

“Kaylee." My voice cracks at the single word and I don't bother fighting the tears, hot and sudden that fall down my cheeks at the thought of the tiny little girl with her Papa’s dark curls and her Daddy's blue eyes.

"She's fine. She is at daycare and you'll see her soon, I promise. You are gonna be okay. You have to be. " Warm lips pressed against my hand, and all I could smell was Patrick; that familiar blend of dryer sheets, leather and spice that was intrinsically HIM. It seemed to intoxicate me as a dark wave passed over my eyes and I slipped into unconsciousness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title from Lake Effect Kid by Fall Out Boy


End file.
